Showing posts with label holy well. Show all posts
Showing posts with label holy well. Show all posts

Sunday, 13 March 2016

Days of Small Beauties

Waking to blue skies and sunshine for several days in a row. I love that feeling of waking up and being excited at the thought of the sun on my skin.
The wild imagination and delight of small boys when they are offered a story all of their own.
That the world seems to have exploded with spring wild flowers! On Friday I visited the churchyard of St Mary's, Plaistow, a favourite wild flower haunt and found snowdrops,my first bluebell of the year, red deadnettle, celandines, primroses, narcissi, crocuses, daisies, green alkanet and then off to St Blaise's Well where I spotted wild red currant, cow parsley, more snowdrops growing perfectly by the Candlemas well, and tiny sweet violets. And not to forget the vibrant green of baby nettles and cleavers, come to wake us up for the spring! Bliss on earth.










How happy~sad and grateful I feel when I see celandines, of which I see many these days. I grieved deeply for celandines when Will died and I lost the boat, as celandines had been such a beautiful sign of spring, and that matters on the water where the winter is often so hard. I didn't remember ever having seen any other than by the water and felt deeply sad that they would no longer be part of my spring. And then, last year, I found a patch of them in a park and now I see them often; yesterday quite near my house! I feel blessed by the memory that they stir and by the glossy sunshine beauty of their petals.


Discovering that female yew trees have flowers and that great clouds of pollen float from them when the breeze takes them! Beautiful!

Sun and shadow on yew bark.


Being in St Mary's churchyard at just the right time to catch someone unlocking the church for a moment and letting me in too explore. I have never found it open before and have had to be content with pressing my nose up against the glass door. I very much dislike churches being locked and it was stunning inside; beautiful stained glass windows, a glimpse of something in one of them that I decided was Fly Agaric mushrooms, and the most beautiful high altar. Also a lovely child friendly thing they have there called 'Twinkles', and a massive collection of soups in a fabulous book for £3. I loved it and I felt norty being inside!


Spending a few moments filling my ears, my heart, and my soul with the song of a wildly singing little robin and hearing the response of another robin far away. I became very aware of the sound-web of communication and song that birds weave around the planet. Powerfully beautiful.

How nervous people get when they see someone standing still in an alley staring up at the sky ~ you know they want to ask what you are doing, and I would have shown them the robin, but of course they didn't. This is England.

The sun shining through the leaves of white crocuses.


My second visit to St Blaise's Well and, this time, having more of a sense of where the true well water runs from and taking two red roses as offerings; one given to the well and one to a yew tree. I loved the clear flow of the water, how it tumbled in a shallow stream around gently rounded stones, how tiny green plants have begun to grow in its waters, how deeply it sings of life and all that is holy and wild in our land. I am so blessed to be able to go there.





That, when I left the house that morning, I hadn't been sure whether to go to the well as I have so much to do and then I opened Sharon Blackie's new book, 'When Women Rose Rooted' and the first thing I read was a poem about wells and how we have to 'return to the source', so I did. And that is the simple magic of the everyday.

From 'When Women Rose Rooted' by Sharon Blackie ~ everyday magic!

More drifts of tree pollen, this time from a Twisted Hazel. I'm not sure that I have ever seen tree pollen before!


A jaunty hello from a man on a tractor!

A flurry of lovely feedback about my tarot readings, some of which made me tearful, and how generous people are to me.

Coming home to find a mystery package containing sweet and thoughtful wonders.

Unexpectedly receiving just the right money in the post to pay for the crow snacks that I had just bought for them. Beautiful abundance.

Powerfully deep, real, and vulnerable conversations with Himself; such love and wild trust, in ourselves and in Life!

Spending my days unearthing layers of memory and clearing away cobwebs and old ghosts. This is the work.


Friday, 29 January 2016

Today's Small Beauties

The first flowerings of cow parsley

Staying awake into the early morning full of hopes and plans for the future. I am all fired up, rising like Bridie's Imbolc snake into the newness of things!

The lovely newsagents near my house being available for the offering of much needed and delicious coffee when I had to leave home early. It is so close that I can just tumble, or crawl, in the door.

A crescent moon of crocuses.

Listening to Spock's Beard, and how music is so interwoven with memories; tender thoughts of last summer.

Gatherings of delicate Common Gulls and Canada Geese wandering on the Heath.

Handing in some much-overdue reports, feeling the relief and the expansion of possibility in my life now that they're done.

A warm, friendly, and nourishing meeting with work colleagues and the possibility of new adventures with tiny people ahead.

Visiting St Blaise Well; pleased at making a plan to seek it out earlier in the week and making it come true, moved by being in the presence of sacred waters, visions of surrounding the well with white roses, the good company of yew trees, snowberries, periwinkles, daffodils, corkscrew hazel, lungwort, and the first flowerings of cow parsley.

Snowberries

St Blaise Holy Well, of which more soon.

Finding newly grown daffodil leaves, which had pushed through the soil with such determination to be born into the light that they were covered in dirt. I love it when primroses do that too, as though they have to really struggle to emerge; an inspiration and a perfect symbol of what Imbolc means to me.

Determined to break through and grow ~ one of my favourite reminders of what Imbolc means.

A crow calling.

Speaking sacred words of commitment to myself to the well and being blessed by a wild wind that blew a great spray of water into my face! I feel that I have been heard.

A little girl, who can't have been more than two years old, running along the road dressed as a tiny Victorian nurse. She had the hat and the cape and was for all the world like a cross between a superhero and an angel. Completely delightful.

Lovely finds in my local charity shop..a beautiful blue silk dress, a long winter skirt, a fluffy waistcoat, and the most beautiful dusky pink scarf shot through with silver thread; making myself new.

The most delicious and much-anticipated omelette in my favourite greasy spoon cafe, eaten whilst reading Terry Pratchett's 'Wintersmith'. Perfect.

A box of the tiniest and most delicious clementines imaginable.

Feeling how Himself and I make each other braver and freer and wilder; just as it should be.